


Never Have I Ever

by Fearharte



Category: NG (Visual Novel), spirit hunter NG, 死印 | Shiin | Death Mark (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Drinking Games, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Pining, Post-Canon, dinner and a fistfight, dub-con but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27909814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearharte/pseuds/Fearharte
Summary: But the main reason Seiji had asked Akira to hang out at his apartment was because he simply missed his best friend. He might love the thrill of an unpredictable life, but he loved the quiet moments with Akira just as much, and they hadn't had any quiet in weeks.--"Can you handle the stairs or do you need me to carry you?" Akira mocked lightly, following Seiji up. Seiji scoffed at him over his shoulder."Are you implying I can't hold my liquor?""We could test your tolerance level.""Hm?" Seiji paused on the landing and turned to look at Akira curiously. He broke into a grin when Akira held up an unopened bottle of sake. "Where did you get that?"--Immediately after the game ends, Seiji recognizes how heavily the summer weighed on Akira and takes him to dinner to cheer him up.
Relationships: Amanome Seiji & Kijima Akira, Amanome Seiji/Kijima Akira
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to all of my FF8 followers that this isn't more for that fandom. I recently finished Spirit Hunter: NG and I seriously *adored* it. I absolutely loved the prequel Death Mark, too. If you can handle grotesque horror and extremely disturbing visuals and stories, they're both really fantastic reads. 
> 
> And the characters for both games are just so. damn. good! I love them. So much.
> 
> If you read this story, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you!

Seiji had a feeling he would never fully experience the word "normal" again, not after the summer he and Akira had been through, and that was mostly fine. He usually enjoyed when life was a little more exciting, a little less predictable, though he would be happy to never see a goddamn ghost again. 

But he had expected Akira, at least, to readjust fairly quickly, fall back into the routine and mediocrity of the day without problem. Yet, after a week, it was clear his best friend was still tightly wound and…maybe not antsy, but on edge, waiting for the things he might never see coming. How did you predict a demon spirit singling you out, after all? How could you ever be sure it wouldn't happen again?

Seiji could see the tight energy in the slope of Akira's shoulders, his need for something that made sense--a way to burn off anxiety until he was too tired to be worried anymore. And that was the third reason he invited himself over to Akira's place one afternoon, to offer him his UG fights back. Akira's normal could never be the mundane life other people looked for. He was pure power in a human body and he needed to expend that somehow.

The second reason Seiji invited himself over was a little more protective than he liked to admit, especially since he'd be able to do very little if a threat actually appeared. He wanted to make Akira feel safer in his own space, wanted to talk and laugh in his room to help dissipate the darker memories that were trapped in the air there. He wanted to show Akira there was nothing left lurking, otherwise he wouldn't be there himself. 

But the main reason he had asked Akira to hang out at his apartment was because he simply missed his best friend. Seiji might love the thrill of an unpredictable life, but he loved the quiet moments with Akira just as much, and they hadn't had any quiet in weeks.

Now, sitting in Akira's bedroom, having just finished making his proposition about the UG fights, which he was ecstatic Akira had accepted, he was able to see just how tired the other man was. 

Sitting on the floor together, leaning against the bed, side by side, Seiji may have been paying more attention to his quiet, dark haired best friend than the magazines they were swapping back and forth. The smudge of darkness under each eye was faint, but easy to see if you were familiar enough with what Akira looked like normally. His shoulders were hunched a little, tight like he was expecting to take a hit. And his-

"What are you staring at?" Akira asked without glancing at him, and it took a lot of willpower not to jolt at his sudden call-out. Seiji smirked at him, trying to keep up his usual facade of cockiness.

"I was checking to see if you were about to pass out on me. You're looking a little weak. You okay, buddy?"

Akira glared at him and Seiji smiled benignly at him. 

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh. You look like you're going to fall over if I sneeze on you."

"Don't sneeze on me, that's fucking gross."

Seiji chuckled and plucked the magazine out of Akira's fingers. "And you've been on this two page advertisement about the Dreamcast for ten minutes."

"...I was thinking about getting one."

"You don't even own a TV."

"I was thinking of getting a TV," Akira said stubbornly.

"Name one video game."

"..." Akira tilted his head and looked away, thinking.

"Just one."

"..." He kept thinking.

"For real? Not even Mario?" Seiji quirked an eyebrow at him. Akira sighed heavily, like Seiji was the most insufferable person he ever met. Which was possible. And likely.

Deciding to cut him some slack, Seiji stood up, stretching, and glanced down at Akira, startled to see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"You outta here?" Akira asked.

"I was going to see if you wanted to go get some food actually," Seiji said. "My treat. Yakiniku?"

"Really?" Akira asked with a slight smile, perking up, and it took Seiji massive restraint not to pat him on the head like a puppy. 

"You look excited," Seiji chuckled, reaching down instead to offer his hand. Akira accepted it, warm and strong, and got to his feet, letting go far too soon. 

"Been a while since I had yakiniku," Akira said shrugging, heading to the door.

"Probably the last time I treated," Seiji ribbed him, grinning a little meanly to cover his next words. "Guess I better take you on more dates."

Akira rolled his eyes and let them out of the apartment, flicking out the light and locking up behind him.

"Take us on your bike," Seiji said with a nod, heading toward the tarped machine as they came down the stairs. Akira glanced at him but complied, unwrapping the motorcycle and tossing Seiji his spare helmet. A moment later, when they both had their helmets on, Akira swung his leg over the bike, a sight that always sent a buzz of heat through Seiji's blood. He straddled the seat behind Akira and settled his hands in his usual place on Akira's waist, then nudged him a little in a way he had done a thousand times before, telling him to go fast.

He felt the rumble of Akira's laugh through his body and tightened his hold, daring to slip an arm around him when Akira leaned forward, revved the engine, and took off.

The roar of wind whipped away all sounds as the landscape quickly shifted from a low class neighborhood to a wide highway, which took them out of the way from the restaurant but where Akira could let loose. Seiji let himself smile freely behind the helmet and hugged both arms around Akira's waist, discreetly copping a feel of hard abs. Fuck, he wanted to explore more than that, wanted to touch chest, arms, legs, ass… 

He didn't realize he had curled his fingers in Akira's shirt until his best friend's hand settled on his thigh when they got off the highway and stopped at an intersection further in the city. Akira squeezed a little and pulled him closer, causing Seiji's breath to hitch as he slid his hips forward obediently. Akira squeezed again, almost possessively. Then the light turned and he let go to grip the handles before shooting off again with a whip of energy that had Seiji tightening his grab on him.

When they finally parked at the restaurant and slid off the bike, Akira pulled his helmet off and gave Seiji a lingering look out of the corner of his eye--too brief to be clear but noticeable enough to stall Seiji's heart for a second.

There was no way that look was what he wanted it to be. 

Akira led the way inside with a gruff "you coming?" and Seiji shook himself off to join him. He knew Akira better than anyone, and there was just no way. His little fantasies were just getting to him after the excitement of the ride.

A pretty hostess greeted them when they entered and Seiji gave her a charming smile, asking for his favorite table in the back. When she blushed but said the table was taken, he asked her to check again, giving his name. Her eyes widened and he chuckled as she hurried off with a hasty glance at Akira too.

"Just a glance at you scared her off, you brute," Seiji teased and Akira gave him a flat look. He opened his mouth to reply, only to promptly close it when a big thuggish looking guy with tattoos covering both bare arms stalked toward them. Akira immediately shifted in front of Seiji like it was his job to protect him, causing warmth to unfurl in his stomach. But now definitely wasn't the time for that. Seiji crossed his arms and gave the thug a nasty smile over Akira's shoulder, the one that Akira always called fucked up.

"Look what the fucking cat dragged in," the thug snapped at Seiji. "I didn't think the Amanome snot was going to be some scrawny puppy but now that I see you, I see you ain't nothing." He glanced away from Seiji and scanned Akira up and down. "And this your bitch I hear about in the UG? What are you doing, bitch? Gonna throw a punch at me? How about I show you how a real man fights?"

"Lift your hand and I'll fucking break it," Akira said calmly in a way that contrasted so harshly with how the thug spoke that it made him seem scarier.

"Akira, whose territory are we on?" Seiji asked sweetly.

"Amanome," Akira said without taking his eyes off the thug.

The thug spat near Akira's shoes. "Fuck Amanome! You think you can come in here and kick Suzumo's right hand man out of his table? You ain't shit without your daddy's guns to back you up, get the fuck out-"

The snap cracked through the air before either of them could even register Akira moving and then the thug was screaming in anger and pain, cradling his hand that he had lifted to point at Seiji. Even Seiji's eyes widened in surprise, then he quickly schooled his expression again, smirking at the thug wickedly.

"He did warn you," Seiji said, stepping forward to rest his forearm on Akira's shoulder. He glanced around the restaurant with a quick flick of his eyes to be sure no one else was going to approach them before giving the thug his attention again, his face growing deadly serious. "And now I'll give you a warning, so shut up and listen."

As if on cue, Akira grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, startling the patrons at the nearest table. The curl of Akira's lip and the nasty look in his eyes sent another buzz through Seiji.

Akira shifted out of the way without giving up his hold and Seiji stepped up to the thug who was starting to sweat as he realized how unmatched he was.

"Suzumo's right hand, huh? I don't think so, Hanamiya Riki," Seiji said, voice smooth as venom. The thug's eyes widened at his name but Seiji didn't smile again. He was pissed. Very pissed. "I came out here for a nice evening to help my friend relax and you've ruined it. Does he look relaxed to you?"

Akira stayed silent. The thug swallowed but didn't make the mistake of taking his eyes off Seiji. 

"N-no," Riki said and winced hard when Akira slammed him into the wall again.

"No, what?" Akira asked calmly.

"No, sir!"

"No, he doesn't look calm at all. Honestly, he looks like he needs to let off some steam," Seiji said, glancing at Akira. A flicker of distaste made Akira's lip twitch, a small signal that told him his friend wasn't in the mood, and Seiji refocused on Riki. "But I'm starving. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to pack up your shit and bus my table, really make it fucking shine for me, then you're going to apologize for wasting my friend's time and get the fuck out of my sight before I get angry."

"Fuck you, Suzumo's going to hear about-"

Akira was definitely holding back on his right hook when he smashed his fist into Riki's face, otherwise the man would have lost consciousness. Instead, he howled with pain and covered his uninjured hand over his nose, which thankfully wasn't bleeding everywhere. 

"Don't talk to him unless he asks you a question," Akira growled, his voice low and dripping with promised violence. Akira let go of his collar so the thug slumped down the wall, landing hard on his ass as he protected himself as best as he could, curling around his softer spots.

Fuck, Seiji was going to buy his best friend the whole damn menu tonight.

"You're right," Seiji said, crouching down so only Riki and Akira would hear him. "Suzumo _will_ hear about how you threatened the Amanome heir and his best friend on his own territory. But not from you. You're going to mind your own business from here on out if you don't want _your_ little side business getting back to your boss," Seiji murmured. He chuckled when Riki paled and looked at him in horror. "Oh yeah, I know all about your little happy pills. I know enough about you to write your goddamn biography. Do you know what my nickname is?"

Riki stayed silent, swallowing thickly, until Akira nudged him roughly with his foot.

"P-prince of Threats!" The thug gasped. "Please, I didn't know-!"

"Yes, you did. Don't lie, Riki, I hate liars." Seiji patted Riki's face sharply. "Just be fucking quiet and I won't have a reason to ever think about you again. Hopefully."

Seiji stood up and frowned down at Riki, then glanced at Akira. "Do we feel like waiting for him to clear the table?"

"Not fucking really," Akira said, annoyed, and Seiji could see it wasn't just an act. His friend was upset, and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

"Yeah, me neither. Get the fuck out of here and get off my family's territory. If I find out that you stuck around, and I will find out, I'll talk to your boss personally, understand?" Seiji smiled at him and Riki nodded frantically, scrambling to get up and out of their way.

The rest of the restaurant all had their gazes averted as they sat remarkably still. The hostess stood nearby, head bowed, hands clasped in front of her. Seiji clicked his tongue at the ruined atmosphere and turned to Akira.

"Still hungry?" 

Akira thought about it, hesitating as he glanced at the other patrons, then met Seiji's eyes, shrugging. "Sure."

They had to stay to keep their appearances. Seiji knew Akira knew that. But that didn't make the situation any less uncomfortable. Despite the high Seiji got whenever he flaunted his power, especially alongside Akira's muscle, they didn't typically make a show of it. Others instigated with them, they didn't start scenes for the hell of it.

Seiji gave the hostess another charming smile and she smiled back tightly.

"We'll still take the back table," he said. Then raised his voice a little, his tone friendly, "And I'll be covering everyone's tab here, as an apology for the disruption, so please bring their checks to me."

That got a nice number of cautious smiles and a little hum of excitement back into the room, and the hostess smiled wider at him. The busboys were already finishing clearing his preferred table, so she guided them back and passed a couple of menus as they sat down side by side.

"This is turning into a really fucking expensive date," Akira muttered in his ear, sending a sizzle of electricity up Seiji's spine. He glanced at his friend, trying to gauge if that flirtation was intentional or just a thoughtless joke. Akira was looking down at the menu, seemingly unruffled, but then Seiji remembered the way he had squeezed his thigh and he hesitated only a heartbeat before deciding to take a risk.

He shifted a little closer as if to discuss business, just like any Yakuza heir would with his most trusted companion, and murmured back softly, "Dinner with you is worth it."

Akira glanced at him sharply, scanning his eyes, but before he could fully form any thoughts that might start clicking together in his head, the hostess appeared again with a bottle of sake.

"On the house," she said politely. Seiji and Akira glanced at each other but kept their mouths shut and the hostess continued speaking as she poured their drinks. "Are you ready to order or would you like some time?"

"We're ready," Seiji said, taking Akira's menu from him, earning a 'hey' of disapproval. He passed them back to the hostess and ordered enough meat and sides to feed four grown men, figuring ordering the full menu might actually take too long to get through. If Akira wanted more after they finished, they'd order more then.

When the hostess left, Seiji reached forward to sip his sake, humming with approval. "That's pretty good."

Akira followed suit but didn't react, as if he could have been drinking water. Probably couldn't tell the quality anyway, Seiji realized. 

"You were perfect, by the way," Seiji said, smiling slyly at Akira. Akira raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm pretty sure Hanamiya shit himself before he crawled away."

"He was nothing," Akira shrugged, taking another sip to finish his drink. Seiji lifted the bottle to pour him more, but he covered his cup with his palm. "I'm driving."

"Such a reliable guy," Seiji chuckled, but set the bottle back down. He shifted as casually as possible and let his knee settle against Akira's, ignoring his friend's glance when he looked over, pretending to people-watch.

They didn't have to wait long for their order to arrive and soon the grill on their table was sizzling with seared meat and vegetables. The atmosphere of the place relaxed considerably and they got into the spirit of joking and laughing while they ate, especially as Seiji went through the sake by himself. He was pretty sure Akira was laughing _at_ him a little more than _with_ him, but that was okay.

Toward the end of the meal, Seiji noticed Akira tensing up again before he saw the two beautiful women approach their table. They were dressed in revealing cocktail dresses, but had the professional air of employees still, and a glance over at the back of the restaurant revealed a manager who nodded his head in polite greeting. Seiji smirked, hiding his annoyance as the girls settled at the table. When one of them tried to sit between Seiji and Akira, Akira gently lifted his arm and blocked her.

"Both of you can sit on the other side and keep your hands above the table."

Seiji subtly studied Akira out of the corner of his eye, noting how irritated he suddenly seemed, not at all interested in the lovely company. Which was satisfying. The girls hesitated and moved around the table, only to pause when Seiji spoke up. "Honestly, we're not sticking around, so you can go. Have them bring me the checks."

The girls exchanged a look. Then one of them reached across the space to stroke Seiji’s hand where it was sitting next to his plate. She smiled at him coyly. “You could stay a little longer, right?” 

Seiji shifted his jaw a little, extremely aware of how tense Akira was next to him. Was he just wary of another situation? Akira’s knee moved away from his and Seiji shifted to immediately close the space again. He pulled his hand away from the girl and gave her a polite smile, eager to get rid of her. “No, please leave.”

She hesitated, then her friend nudged her and they finally got up and quietly walked away, apparently more intimidated than truly interested after all.

"Not in the mood for a little fawning?" Akira asked dryly.

"You were being awfully protective there," Seiji said carefully with a cautious grin. "Or possessive?"

"We didn't call for them and you're drunk, I don't want any surprises," Akira said, smirking at him, and Seiji couldn't tell if he was imagining the heat in his eyes or if it was really there. He propped his elbow on the table and leaned toward his best friend, giving him a sexy smile.

"No surprises at all?"

"...You're really drunk," Akira amended casually, but Seiji watched his throat bob as he swallowed before meeting his eyes again.

Well yes, okay, he was a little drunk, but that didn't hinder his good judgements. And right now he was thinking it was a really good idea to test how far-

"Amanome-san, thank you so much for your patronage tonight," the manager interrupted Seiji's starting contest with Akira. He looked over at the balding man in annoyance. His irritation deepened as the man kept talking. "Are you sure you didn't want to spend some time with either of our girls? They were very interested in you and there's nothing they wouldn't do to make you happy."

Seiji glared at him, his charming fallbacks hard to bring forward right now. He opened his mouth to say something nasty but paused when he felt a familiar hand discreetly settle on his lower back. He closed his mouth and then smiled a little, calming down almost immediately.

"No," he said. "We've got somewhere else we need to be soon. But thank you."

"Certainly, sir, and the sake was to your liking? Is there anything else I can get you or your friend?"

"We're good," Akira said with finality and Seiji pressed back into his touch, careful not to react when Akira stroked his fingers a little bit. 

"Just the checks," Seiji said, holding up an elite credit card. The manager accepted it with a bow and hurried away, and Seiji shifted more into Akira's touch, speaking low. "Thanks."

"Mhm," Akira hummed. He dropped his hand away and froze when Seiji just leaned against his shoulder instead. Akira shifted closer as well to speak softly again. "People can see us."

Seiji clicked his tongue and sighed heavily, feeling dizzy and warm and annoyed as he moved away. The manager reappeared a few moments later and presented the check for signature. Seiji glanced at it and scrawled his signature across the line while Akira looked over his shoulder at the total. 

"360,000 yen," Akira muttered as he stood up. Seiji shoved himself to his feet and swayed, then chuckled when Akira gripped his elbow.

"Always such a gentleman."

"If I let you faceplant into the grill, I'm pretty sure your dad will actually murder me," Akira said, but his voice held some amusement and Seiji gave a quick glance both revealed his smile and sent the room spinning.

"Fuck, I don't think I can walk out of here straight," Seiji said. At least he wasn't slurring, though he started chuckling at his private double entendre.

"Want to sit for a while?" Akira asked, passing him a glass of water. Seiji took a large gulp and shook his head with immediate regret. 

"No, just walk behind me and catch me if I trip," Seiji said. He gave himself another moment to get steady, then took a few steps. The room swayed a little, but it wasn't that bad if he moved his head and eyes slowly. Akira fell into step behind him, blocking patrons from watching him too closely. Several people called out words of thanks for the dinner, but Seiji ignored them. 

When they made it outside and finally out of sight, he took a deep breath of fresh air and stretched his arms over his head, laughing when he tilted a little and Akira grabbed his hip.

"Are you going to be able to ride?" Akira asked with a chuckle.

"Sure, I'm not that far gone. I won't fall off." Seiji dropped his arms, letting one settle around Akira's shoulders. 

"I'm more worried about you throwing up," Akira said dryly, steering them over. He grabbed his spare helmet and pulled away from Seiji enough to settle it on his head.

"You should let me ride in front," Seiji said, flicking the visor up to grin at him.

"No."

"You can drive from behind me. Otherwise what if I actually do fall off the back?"

"Then I'll take you to the hospital after I scrape you off the road," Akira said, but he was smiling wide now, pulling his own helmet on and swinging onto the bike. He patted the seat behind him and Seiji climbed on without any real trouble. Then Akira grabbed both his thighs and pulled him snug up against his ass, causing a jolt of heat to shoot through Seiji's already warm blood. "But that would be a really lame end to this night, so hang on tight."

Seiji settled his hands on Akira's hips loosely, chuckling when Akira patted his knee firmly to tell him to shape up. Seiji squeezed his hands a little as if that was all he was asking and laughed when Akira impatiently grabbed his arms and pulled them around his stomach. Seiji shifted a little and rubbed his stomach like he was a good dog, but the feel of hard abs muscles under thin fabric sent a rush of blood through his whole body and he cursed sharply, dropping the forehead of his helmet against Akira's back as he tightened his fingers in weak restraint. His breath hitched when Akira smoothed his hand over Seiji's, weaving their fingers together and squeezing hard for a moment. He pulled Seiji's arm tighter around his waist before letting go and starting the motorcycle. Then he pulled away from the parking space and had them flying. 

They twisted through the city, ignoring the highway in favor of getting home sooner, and Seiji managed not to get sick, despite the way his whole brain felt like it was swishing around in his head.

A little while later, when they finally pulled up to the apartment again, Akira slowed to a stop and waited until Seiji was able to cautiously unwrap his arms and stand on unsteady feet. His world was spinning in circles and he was pretty certain it wasn't just the alcohol. Akira's body under his hands, his touches and lingering glances, his laughter and how he knew exactly what Seiji needed at any given moment-

Seiji pulled the helmet off and took two bold steps toward Akira, then faltered to a stop when Akira shot him a curious look, taking his helmet off as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah…" Seiji said, shifting his gaze away again.

"You coming up or going home?"

"Going to let me wander around by myself like this after provoking a rival Yakuza member?" Seiji asked with a tight smirk. Akira raised an eyebrow at him.

"No. I would walk you home."

"What time is it?" Seiji asked, more as a distraction as he tried to steel his nerves again. 

Akira glanced at his phone. "Eleven thirty."

"PM?" Seiji joked and Akira snorted dismissively. 

"Are you coming up or what?"

"Are you inviting me?"

"What? Since when do I have to invite you?"

Seiji shrugged and folded his arms across his chest. The buzz was wearing off and it was draining his good mood with it. 

Which made him feel like an ass. He was here for Akira, not himself. He shook his head to shake off his funk. Akira was exhausted. Seiji was here because his best friend wasn't sleeping. No more, no less.

"Let's go up," Seiji said, offering Akira an apologetic smile. 

"Can you handle the stairs or do you need me to carry you?" Akira mocked lightly, following Seiji up. Seiji scoffed at him over his shoulder.

"Are you implying I can't hold my liquor?"

"We could test your tolerance level."

"Hm?" Seiji paused on the landing and turned to look at Akira curiously. He broke into a grin when Akira held up an unopened bottle of sake. "Where did you get that?"

"The manager of the restaurant passed it to me while you were stumbling for the exit. Said it was a gift for when I got home since I couldn't drink with you at dinner." Akira wiggled the bottle at him. "Might be a bad idea, though."

Seiji grinned wider and headed up toward the second floor, sticking his hands into his pockets casually. "I don't think I've ever seen you drunk."

"Hmm, what makes you think you're about to?" Akira asked, trailing after him again.

"You're not making me drink alone again." 

"I mean that my tolerance is probably a little higher than yours. I am bigger." Akira unlocked his apartment when they got to the door, letting them in.

"You are _two_ inches taller. I'm not short," Seiji protested. He toed his shoes off inside the apartment and folded his arms behind his head as he headed toward the living room table, shooting a grin back at Akira. " _Any_ where."

Akira faltered as he kicked his shoes off and locked the door, glancing at Seiji like he wasn't sure he heard him right. Seiji bounced his eyebrows at him and laughed when Akira shifted his jaw.

"Well I still have twenty pounds on you," Akira pointed out. He pulled off his gloves, tossing them to his shoe cupboard, and grabbed couple cups from his kitchenette. He joined Seiji to sit at the table, settling beside him just like in the restaurant.

"That sounds awfully close to a drinking challenge. Except I have a decent head start."

Akira just chuckled and poured himself a decent amount, then shot it back in one sexy gulp. He cleared his throat as he set the cup down. "That better?"

"Getting there. But we should make this more interesting," Seiji said, taking the bottle from him to pour them another shot each. 

"How?"

"Do you know the game 'Never Have I Ever?' We take turns asking questions and whoever did the activity takes a drink."

"Both of us, for the same question?"

"Yup. So you can really load your own questions in your favor. But you have to answer honestly. Want to play?" Seiji gave him a wicked smile and Akira smirked, meeting his challenge with a little cockiness.

"Alright. You start."

"I'll take one with you for the first one. Never have I ever dined and dashed," Seiji said, knowing they both had once when they were younger. He knocked his drink back and Akira followed suit, catching on to the rules. "Your turn."

"Never have I ever…worn someone else's underwear." Akira laughed as he watched Seiji roll his eyes and take a drink with a smile.

"You threw me into a lake and I had to wear _something_ while you washed my clothes," Seiji reminisced a little ruefully.

"You tried to punch me," Akira said with amusement.

"I can't remember why," Seiji laughed. He thought for a moment. "Never have I ever gotten stitches."

Akira drank that for that one, snorting a little. Seiji had definitely never had a need for stitches and Akira could drink at least four times for that question.

"Never have I ever…" Akira studied Seiji carefully, starting to look a little pink from the alcohol, relaxing as they got into the game. "We have to be honest, huh?"

"Those are the rules," Seiji confirmed, feeling a little buzz of nervousness at the hint things were about to get serious.

"Never have I ever had sex."

They watched each other and neither moved, then Akira raised both eyebrows. "Really?"

"Blowjobs don't count, right?" Seiji asked with a grin. Akira squinted as if thinking about it.

"Fine, blowjobs don't count. How many have you had?"

"I feel like follow up questions should require the asker to drink," Seiji said, laughing when Akira took a drink to get the answer. "Like three. My old man took me to a strip club and got me a private room for my eighteenth birthday."

"That sounds awkward as fuck," Akira laughed.

"You have no idea. Then I tried a couple hostesses a few weeks later, but anonymous sex might not be my thing. Have you ever had one?"

"Nope. No time, no money, no girls I'm interested in. Take a drink for that question," Akira pointed at Seiji's cup and he obediently swallowed it back. 

"Never have I ever jerked it to someone I know," Seiji said after he filled up both their cups. They watched each other carefully again and then both knocked back their drinks.

"If you say Aunt Natsumi, I will punch you," Akira threatened.

"She's a beautiful woman, Akira, and I-" Seiji pulled back sharply, barely avoiding Akira's fist to his shoulder, "-would never disrespect her like that, you brute!"

Akira laughed and settled back again.

"What about you? Hazuki?"

"No," Akira snorted like that was a stupid question.

"Hey, buddy, you were the one stripping for her that one time," Seiji accused lightly, maybe a little too invested in this answer.

"She was assaulting me," Akira said, giving him a flat look.

"Who then?" Seiji pressed seriously.

"...I'm not answering that question."

"...Then take a drink."

Akira obeyed and Seiji thought for a moment before settling on an easy question to return to less dangerous topics.

"Never have I ever gotten a tattoo." 

Akira took another drink and Seiji's eyes widened.

"What? When?" He demanded with a laugh. "How come I didn't know? I thought we were best friends."

"Relax, it was a couple days ago. I…did it to kind of claim my body again," Akira said with a shrug. 

Seiji sobered a little, then smiled at him suspiciously. "Where is it?" Akira tapped his left peck, right over his heart, and Seiji rolled his hand at him. "Well come on, let me see."

"It's still healing," Akira warned, hesitating, but then he pulled up his shirt, revealing his six pack, perfect pecks, and finally the romaji letter A in elegant script. Seiji stared at it for a long moment, then glanced back up at Akira's eyes.

"A for Akira," Seiji said, like it wasn't obvious. Akira shrugged at him, holding his gaze. He started to lower his shirt but Seiji pushed it back up and touched the tattoo, tracing the letter slowly since Akira let him. "It's rough."

"Like I said, still healing."

"It's pretty." Seiji lowered his hand from warm skin and settled back against the bed again, pressing their shoulders together once Akira pulled his shirt back down.

"Never have I ever loved someone," Akira said, his voice low as he watched Seiji out of the corner of his eye. Seiji lifted his chin a little and wet his lips, then drained his cup, his heart pounding as he saw Akira do the same out in his peripheral vision. Then he glanced at Akira.

"Are you still not drunk?"

"Getting there," Akira admitted with amusement. Seiji chuckled and set his cup down, shifting to kneel next to Akira.

"There are some tests to see how drunk you are. Do this." Seiji held one hand out and pointed, then drew it wide to touch his nose, missing by a centimeter, making himself laugh. "You try."

Akira held his hand out and mimicked the motion, landing right on the tip of his nose.

"Bullshit," Seiji said indignantly and Akira laughed genuinely. "Your face is pink. You're definitely drunk."

"I said I was getting there," Akira chuckled. Seiji held up a finger in front of his face. 

"Take another drink and follow my finger with your eyes."

"Is this another game?" Akira asked. He lifted the sake bottle to his lips and tilted his head back to take two large gulps. Seiji watched the slide of his throat, a little hypnotized, then stroked his finger down his Adam's Apple. Akira scrunched up one eye to squint at him and lowered the bottle. "Don't do that when I'm drinking."

"How about when you're not drinking?" Seiji asked, his face feeling flushed. He hooked his finger under Akira's choker and Akira followed his gentle pull, their eyes locked on one another.

"Never have I ever been willing to die for my best friend," Akira murmured and Seiji released his choker to take the bottle from his fingers, taking a long gulp. Akira claimed the bottle from him and knocked back the last large swig. He settled his forehead against Seiji's when he lowered the bottle and closed his eyes. "Okay, think I'm drunk. Room's spinning."

"Me too," Seiji whispered, and then he leaned forward to catch Akira's mouth with his own. Akira kissed him back fully without hesitation, causing a rush of heat to engulf his whole body. Seiji cupped the back of Akira's head and tilted to deepen the kiss, moaning when Akira nipped his bottom lip, pulling himself closer when their tongues dipped together.

Akira's hands wandered down Seiji's hips, then, without warning, he suddenly yanked him roughly into his lap, grinding his hard cock up against his ass needfully. Seiji tipped his head back in a moan, rolling his hips to rock down against him, inhibitions a blur in the back of his mind. Akira latched his mouth onto his neck, starved groans vibrating against Seiji's skin. He sucked hard and then bit him, only breaking the love kiss when Seiji pushed him back and captured his mouth again, then kept pressing until Akira was on his back, wrists pinned above his head. Seiji shifted to half lay on top of him and humped his cock against him through his clothes. When Akira groaned again in pleasure, Seiji started a rhythm, fucking against him.

Akira moaned loudly as he matched Seiji's movements, lifting against him with every building wave. Seiji dove his tongue into his mouth and Akira met him with just as much hunger, gasping harshly when Seiji dizzily released one wrist to pop open Akira's pants and then shove his hand inside, moaning out when he closed his fingers around his best friend's bare cock and pulled out the hot length.

"Akira, oh fuck, fuck _me_ ," Seiji swore mindlessly. He braced his other hand against the floor, letting Akira free to fumble down between them. A moment later, he released Seiji’s dick, palming it possessively. 

"S'for you," Akira rasped suddenly, yanking Seiji further on top of him so they could grip their cocks together. Seiji closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against Akira's again, gasping as they started to fucked together into their fists, a helpless noise escaping him as they jacked in and out. 

"W-what?" He asked, trying to focus. Close, so close, so fast. He shifted a little to shove Akira's t-shirt up before bracing himself again. He wanted to strip him, wanted to feel more of him, wanted sweat and skin and Akira.

"The A, for Ama-"

Seiji shouted out harshly as he came and Akira yanked him down for a hard kiss as he fell over the edge with him, both of them bucking hard, shooting thick ropes of cum all over his bare stomach. They fucked through their twin orgasms, their grips turning slick as they shuddered through the movements and coated their fingers. It was the hardest Seiji ever came in his life and he broke the kiss roughly to gasp for air as the last stands of cum painted Akira's abs. He opened his eyes, inhaling and exhaling just as heavily as Akira was as they met each other's gazes.

"F-fuck," Seiji said breathlessly, his voice low and raw, his brows furrowed as he stared at him. He clenched his teeth around a hiss when Akira stroked their wet cocks again. "Sensitive."

Akira grinned and did it again, causing Seiji to pull his hips back and bite Akira's bottom lip a little sharply. Akira laughed quietly, seeming dazed and happy, like some wall had come crashing down between them. He reached under the bed, retrieving a box of his personal wet wipes to pop a couple free. He cleaned them up both up and tossed the mess near his trash like he didn't give a fuck if it got in right now. 

When he was done and they were tucked away again, he boldly pulled Seiji down for a slow, delicious kiss, rolling them to their sides and pulling his blanket off his mattress to cover them, like getting up to climb on the bed was too much work right now. Seiji had to agree, feeling both lightheaded and heavy with the warm rush in his blood, flooded with the burned-out sensation of disbelief that only ever came after adrenaline faded and he found his world had shifted wildly. And for better or worse, Akira seemed to always be the one knocking things off their axis. 

Definitely for better, this time.

"Stay?" Akira whispered, interrupting Seiji’s amazement, offering his bent arm to use as a pillow.

"Y-yeah…" Seiji murmured, settling against Akira and sliding his arm around his's waist, touching their foreheads together as he pulled closer to him. It seemed neither of them could manage to voice more than a word at a time despite the whirlwinds inside them, but that was fine. Right now, everything was a unpredictable, but that was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully these guys were in character enough. I tried to balance their personalities against the time they've had for the game events to settle in and really hit them. I know Akira's tattoo is way out of character, but I wanted him to have one. He has other reasons for why he got it for Amanome besides sentimentality, and I think I'll cover that if/when I write chapter 2.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for any comments or kudos! I really appreciate it! ❤


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